Page 77 of Love and Other Paradoxes

She turned, misery written on her face. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they let you be with her now when their whole business depends on you getting together later?”

He didn’t want this resigned, wrenching sadness. He wanted her to be angry with him. “You tell me! You’re the one who’s obsessed with changing the future! But only in the way that suits you, right? The rest of us have to stick to the script, so we don’t mess up your plan.”

She let out a despairing laugh. “Do you really think that’s what this is about? You don’t belong to me, Joe. I don’t get to decide what you do with your life.”

She was inches from him, backed against the wall of the tunnel. He didn’t want to give her a way out. He wanted to make her say it. “So what is it about?”

She tilted her chin up, meeting the challenge in his gaze. “Why are you with her?”

The tremble in her voice betrayed what she was really asking. He answered that question as well as the one she had spoken. “Because she wants to be with me.”

She looked down the tunnel with a heartbroken smile. “And have you been honest with her?”

“Yes. I’m not pretending to be someone else anymore. I’m being myself—”

“You know what I mean,” she interrupted. “Does she know the truth?”

“No. Of course she doesn’t.” All the turmoil of how he’d been feeling for the past month rose up inside him. “Do you know what it’s like, to try and be with someone when you’ve read the book of your relationship? It’s never enough. Because you’re not comparing it to reality. You’re comparing it to something perfect. Something that never existed.” He gazed at her, desperate to make her understand. “I don’t want her to have to feel that too.”

“That’s not how relationships work. You’re in it together, or you’re not in it at all.” She fixed him with a look that knew him inside out. “Do you really think you can spend your whole life like that? With her, but not with her? Measuring every moment against a future she doesn’t even know exists?”

He knew the answer. But he knew what that answer meant. If he broke up with Diana a second time, she wasn’t going to forgive him. She would be gone, and his future would be gone with her.

Esi must have read it in his eyes. She lowered her head with a soft exhalation. “I thought you were better than this.”

The words echoed down the tunnel, ricocheted back to strike him in the heart. By the time he had recovered enough to take a breath, she was gone.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“So? How are you feeling? Are you ready?”

He stared unblinking at Dr. Lewis. This was his final supervision, the day before the start of his exams. “No. Yes? Maybe.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “I don’t know.”

“It’s common to feel that way at this point. You just need to let go of the outcome, and do the best you can.” She settled back in her armchair. “You’ve really impressed me this term, Joe. Of course, no result is guaranteed. But you should be very proud. You’ve done the work. Now you can focus on the future.”

He tried to feel proud, but he couldn’t feel much of anything. Esi’s words were still ringing in his ears.I thought you were better than this.

Dr. Lewis peered at him. “What’s up?”

A sudden lump in his throat. He swallowed it. “I guess—I’m finding it hard to get excited about the future.”

“It can feel a little abstract sometimes. You know what always used to help me?” She drew an arc in the air as if she were opening a portal. “I used to imagine my future self, coming back to tell me who she had become.”

He almost laughed. He thought of Joseph Greene the poet, stepping through the wormhole with a smug smile and a copy ofMeant to Be, and felt physically ill. “What if I don’t like my future self?”

“Then that’s a sure sign you’re on the wrong path.” She clapped her hands, making him start. “Invent a new one! That’s the point! The future is nothing but the sum of all our present moments.”

The idea was terrifying. To walk up to Joseph Greene, celebrated poet, and decide not to become him. To take a different path. “But what if my new future’s not as impressive?”

She scoffed. “Who cares?”

“Easy for you to say. Your future was being a professor at Cambridge.”

She gave him a sly look. “Do you know why I play the sousaphone?”

A complete non sequitur. He stared at the instrument’s looping coils in desperation. “Because it’s a symbol of infinity?”

“No! Because it’sfun. It’s loud, and it’s silly, and it’s like wearing a musical hug. It makes me happy.” She got to her feet, signalling that the supervision was over. “You’re twenty-one, Joe. Find what makes you happy. Wherever that leads, you can’t go wrong.”

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